I Know You
by TigerLily888
Summary: After a difficult case, Emily comforts Hotch despite knowing that she shouldn't. Oneshot.


**This is a oneshot that I could not get out of my mind so I just had to sit down and write it. I guess it's my way of dealing with the whole Beth story arch so it's more angsty than you'd be used to from me. I was also going to leave it at the end of Emily's POV, but hey, we can always do with a happy ending, right? Besides, if I didn't, I'm sure saturdayslump, my beta would have hunted me down and showed me her displeasure LOL**

**This fic is unbetaed, so please excuse me for any typos.**

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><p><em>This story is a work of fiction by an amateur writer and is for entertainment purposes only. The writer is in no way associated with Criminal Minds nor anyone connected to the program. No Copyright infringement is intended and no monetary compensation has been received by the creation of this story.<em>

_All publicly recognized characters and storylines are owned by The Mark Gordon Company, Paramount/Viacom, Touchstone Television, CBS Television Studios, ABC Studios, and their related entities._

_All original characters, settings and/or storylines are Copyright protected.__ Any duplication or distribution of this story, in whole or in part, expressly prohibited without written consent of the Author._

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><p><em>Emily<em>

I am numb as I watch the crime scene technician gently brush away grains of sand from the small form before me. The scene beyond of the wild, windswept sea and churning waves is achingly beautiful, even on a day like today, with the grey, overcast skies above and the sleet that stings my cheeks. But I don't notice. Because I can now see the the rounded curve of a cheek and then thick, blond eyelashes. A button nose appears, with its sprinkling of freckles. It is the little boy from the photo, with his bow-shaped mouth and little stubborn chin. He looks peaceful in repose, finally free from the horrors he had experienced over the last 72 hours.

It never becomes easier. Not for me. And never when it comes to children. We had worked so hard, around the clock, to find this child. Chased down every possible lead, even the most unlikely of trails. We set up tip lines, went through previous cases, interviewed dozens of paedophiles. It was only upon re-interviewing one of them today that the UnSub let something slip. But by then it was too late. Much too late.

I look across at my supervisor who is staring stone-faced at the same heartbreaking tableau before me. His expression reveals nothing but I see the enormous tension in his shoulders and the painfully tight set of his jaw. Most telling though is the way his hands are clenched into fists. He is angry and in pain. And I know why. He blames himself. He had been the one to interview the UnSub two days ago, most likely when the child was still alive. The UnSub was intelligent and cunning. Brilliant even. None of us would have suspected him. But I know this man that I have worked beside for five years now. He holds himself up to an incredibly high standard, much higher than he does anyone else. That is why he pushes himself so hard. He believes he has to be faster, stronger, smarter than everyone. Especially the UnSubs.

I bite my lip to stifle a sob when the little boy's plump hand is revealed clutching his favourite toy. It is a little giraffe, its tag ragged from being constantly sucked. I hear a faint sound and look up to see pain flash unguarded over my Unit Chief's face. All I want is to go over to him and take his pain away, the way he has lightened mine. But I can't, not here. My mouth parts in surprise when he suddenly turns around and strides off, the bright yellow letters emblazoned on the back his standard issue windbreaker hurting my eyes. I start to move after him, but pause to look at Dave, who gives me a nod. Reassured that he will deal with the situation, I run after my supervisor, who by now, was only mere yards from the SUV.

I reach the Tahoe just as he gets into the driver seat and manages to slip in seconds before he pulls away, tyres spinning in the gravel before they gain traction. He does not acknowledge my presence, instead driving fast down the highway in the direction of our motel. I say nothing, because I know there is nothing I can say that will change his mind. Nothing that will allow him to forgive himself. He pulls into the motel parking lot with a screech and gets out, walking towards the bar. I don't know what else to do, but I am concerned about him, so with some hesitation, I follow in.

After buying a bottle of scotch he strides off in the direction of his room. I had expected him to stop me from entering his room, but he leaves his door open behind him. I walk in, slowly closing the door behind me, my gaze focused on the dark-haired man before me. He strips off his windbreaker and tie with short, jerky movements before taking a glass from the cabinet and pouring a generous measure of scotch into it. He offers it to me first, but when I shake my head, he throws back the alcohol like it is water. Twice, three times he repeats the motion. After the fourth measure, I step forward, putting my hand on his, as he makes to pour a fifth shot into the glass.

"Stop." My voice is soft, but firm.

His eyes flares with anger at me, but I stand firm. "What do you want, Prentiss?"

I manage not to wince at his address. It had been Emily for a while now, since that day on the jet when I admitted to him that I was having a bad day. Now, it was back to Prentiss again. It smarts. "I want to make sure you are all right."

He laughs bitterly. "I'm not all right. But you know what, it doesn't matter, because I not planning to think about that for the rest of the day. Or night." He pushes my hand aside, but I grab his wrist, preventing him from taking hold of the bottle.

"Stop," I repeat, fingers tight around his wrist.

He stares at me and I look deep into his eyes. There is anger, there, yes. But there is also pain. So much pain that I feel as if my breath has been stolen from me. Turmoil swirls in those dark orbs and his face is frozen in a rictus of anguish. "Let me go, Emily. Go back to your room. You shouldn't be around me."

"I'm not leaving you." _Not when you need me,_ I add silently. My heart clenches when I see his jaw tremble. The man whom I know as a fortress of strength, who exuded nothing but confidence appears lost. Vulnerable. Suddenly I know what I have to do. I have to take away his pain. I reach up to cup his face in my hands, the dark stubble on his jaw rasping my palms. Surprise flashes in his eyes but to my relief he does not move away. "I'm staying right here," I whisper. "As long as you need me."

"Emily." His voice is husky and raw. He swallows visibly. "Please. Go before we do something we'll both regret."

I know what he means. He isn't just referring to work. Later on I will look back at this moment and wonder where my principles have gone. Why I had suddenly turned into this immoral person who did not have a care for others. But right now, I don't care. I don't care because I am desperate to ease his pain. And if I am honest with myself, I need him just as much as he needs me. I just want to forget. "Just for tonight, Hotch, I want to be here for you. But if you really want me to go, tell me and I'll go." My voice is barely a whisper as I utter the lie. I couldn't leave him in that moment if someone held a gun to my head.

He opens his mouth and I stop breathing. But no sound emerges. I see his nostrils flare and then he is hauling me up against his hard strength, his mouth catching the startled sound I emit. The kiss is hard and rough and needy. His mouth ravages mine with barely restrained violence and soon the world around me fades away. Clothes are stripped off without thought and then we are on the bed, his lean body covering mine as his lips continued their passionate onslaught. So desperate are we for each other that we spare no time for foreplay and I sigh when he presses fully into me. Our gazes lock as our bodies strain together. I reach the pinnacle first, so I am able to watch as he scales his, a harsh groan tearing out of his throat, painful pleasure tightening his face.

He collapses on me, making it hard to breathe, but I don't care. I realise it's just sex, a mere physical release between two people in need, but I know the truth. I love this man lying in my arms. I have for a long time. But he is my Unit Chief and so I locked my feelings away. It is why I also know that it can only be this one night. Just this one anomaly in space and time.

And this is what I say to him when he utters my name, a question in his voice. I force a smile, even though my heart is breaking within. "I know. Just this one night." My supervisor looks like he wants to say something, his eyes turbulent with some unnamed emotion. But he says nothing, instead lying down beside me. I shut my eyes to keep the tears at bay when he draws me back against him, his arm holding me close, the tenderness in his touch tearing at my heart.

"I didn't see him." I hear the pained anguish in his voice. "I should have seen him."

I tighten my hand around his. "I know. I know."

That night we make love twice more, the pleasure each time more intense than the last. Only one thought that drifts through my mind before sleep finally claims me.

How can something so wrong feel so right?

Yet fourteen hours later I am reminded again how wrong it was. I watch numbly as the man I spent the night with, the man I loved beyond bearing, is enfolded in the arms of his smiling girlfriend. My eyes meet his for the briefest moment over her shoulder and his gaze is troubled. I don't want him to know the depth of my pain. All I want is for him to be happy. And I know he is, with her. So I give him a reassuring smile, because I'm the queen of compartmentalisation. I even manage to hold it until they are out of sight. The tears burn as I close my eyes, the image of their clasped hands seared into my memory.

I am strong at first in the days that follow. I smile and joke as if everything is normal. No one suspects a thing. But as time goes by I realise I am fooling myself. Seeing him every day is painfully bittersweet. Just one look or a particular gesture and I am suddenly thrown back into the memory of our night together. Like an ancient seawall battered by a millennia of waves, my defences are slowly crumbling. Rationally, I know what I have to do. Of course I know.

But it takes two innocuous little sticks to finally convince me.

It is time. I have to leave my beloved BAU. My family.

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><p><em>Hotch<em>

I stare uncomprehendingly at the piece of paper in my hand. _She's resigning?_ The first question that flares to my mind is why. You know why, my brain mocks me. It is because of that night. That has to be the reason. My hand clenches, crumpling the letter I hold. A familiar wave of guilt washes over me. He is my constant bedfellow, never letting me forget as I attempt to laugh at Beth's jokes or reciprocate her kisses. I must be a good actor as she suspects nothing, despite me having called off a handful of dates, unable to face her cheerful facade on those days when guilt threatens to smother me.

Worse still is the guilt I feel about the way I treated my colleague and my subordinate. My friend. She hides her feelings well, so well in fact that I have even found myself resenting her for being able to forget the night we spent together with such ease when I couldn't. Can't. Every second of that period of time, from the moment she stepped into my room is ingrained in my very cells. It plays like a broken record each night, no matter where I am. If there is one thing I am grateful for, it is that my relationship with Beth has not progressed to sharing a bed. I am sure that I would have been unable to hide my thoughts from her.

For despite my guilt, despite the undeniable wrongness that my being with Emily had been, aside from Jack's birth, that night had been the best night of my life. I am an immoral bastard. There is no doubt about it. I hadn't seen her in over a week now. She had called one morning, asking for some time off for personal reasons. I couldn't say no to her, when it could very well be me that she needs time away from. And now this letter. What has happened?

My cell buzzes. It is Beth, asking me where I am. I am tempted to cancel our date, but I have already done that too much lately. She will start wondering about me and our relationship, if she hasn't already. And that is why I find myself standing in front of her apartment door half an hour later. She greets me with her usual smile and reaches up to kiss me. When her kiss deepens, I respond in kind at first, wanting to erase the other brunette who haunts my thoughts from my mind. But no matter how hard I try, her image remains in my mind's eye. I can clearly remember her taste, her scent, the softness of her skin and the sweet sounds of passion from her lips that had been a melody to my ears. She had felt so right in my arms, as if she had been made for me.

Unlike this woman whom I am now kissing as if it were my last night on earth. I pull away abruptly and she stares at me with dazed eyes, before smiling and reaching up for me again. I take a step back, feeling sorrow sweep through me at the confusion that appears in her eyes.

"Aaron, what's wrong?"

I can't do this any more. It is unfair to her. "I'm sorry, Beth, but it's not going to work between us."

"What?" She gapes at me in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

I steel myself. "I don't think we should see each other any more."

"B..but why? I thought everything was fine! I thought you were happy? You _seem_ happy when we're together."

I couldn't deny that. "I was." I pause, not wanting to tell her the truth. That I was a liar and a cheat. A man with no principle. "Beth, you're a wonderful woman. You deserve someone who can love you with all that he is. I'm not that man." I can never be that man when my heart belongs to another.

She stares at me as long minutes tick by. Her usually smiling eyes are now clouded. "You've met someone else, haven't you?"

My breath catches in my throat. She is more insightful than I give her credit for. "Beth..." I reply slowly.

"You should have told me," she interrupts. But there is no fire in her tone, merely resignation.

"I'm sorry, Beth, sorrier than you'll ever know. I never meant to hurt you." It's true. She is warm, and funny, always ready with a smile and a joke. Everything I'm not. Perhaps that is what attracted me in the first place. I cannot deny that she had brought light into my life. But that isn't enough. She isn't enough. She's not the one I want. The one I yearn for with every fiber of my being.

"I should go." I move to the door, desperate now to find the woman who has invaded my every waking thought and even my dreams. I give Beth a last look, hoping she can see the regret in my eyes. "I really am sorry, Beth. I wish you all the best."

She says nothing, so I leave, guilt at having to hurt this woman weighing heavy in my heart. More guilt. Will I ever escape this prison of my own making?

Twenty minutes later I am standing in front of yet another door. Just like earlier, dread fills my heart, but this time there is also anticipation. I have missed her, this subordinate of mine who has more in common with me than anyone else on my team. She knows me. Just as I know her. Perhaps that's why it feels so right when we are together.

Complete.

The door opens and I inhale sharply at my first look at her. She looks ill. She is thinner than she had been and the shadows under her eyes underlined the pallor of her face.

"Emily." My voice is too loud in the hushed hallway. When she makes no response, I quickly take her arm and draw her aside so that I could enter. The door barely shuts behind me before my hands are on her shoulders. "What happened?" I hear the demanding tone in my voice, regretting it when flinches. "Emily, tell me what happened," I repeated, more gently this time.

She licks her lips, black eyes staring at me helplessly. Still she fails to answer. A tendril of fear creeps through me, but I push it aside and cup her cheek with my left hand. "Please tell me what's wrong. Why did you ask for time off? Have you been sick?"

She breathes out a laugh, but it is humourless. My heart clenches at the pain that appears in her eyes. "That night, in Tampa, we didn't use any protection."

I freeze. Everything within me stills. I swear that even my heart has stopped beating.

"I was pregnant." Her eyes are dull with pain and anguish. I struggle to comprehend the fact that this woman is carrying my child. Wait. No. What was it she had said?

"You _were_ pregnant?" Please God, no.

_NO._

I see the truth in her wounded eyes and I start to shake my head in denial. "Emily, you lost the baby?" I can barely force the words out.

Tears fill her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks as she nods, her face crumpling under the force of her emotions. I pull her tight against me. Her body shakes with her sobs and I know that this is the first time she has allowed herself to grief. I hold her, dry-eyed, not because I didn't feel the pain, but because it hasn't sunk in yet. The fact that we had made a child together, which was now lost to us is beyond my comprehension. I know the hurt will come later. How can it not?

But now I have to concentrate on Emily. She means everything to me. And she is hurting. I lift her up into my arms and move over to the couch, sitting her on my lap and cradling her head against my chest. After some time, she stops sobbing, but I can still feel her tears soaking into the collar of my dress shirt, her face pressed into neck. I hold her as tightly as I dared, telling her that everything is going to be all right. I know it isn't. How can losing your child ever be all right? But I say it anyhow, because I don't know what else to say. What other comfort I can give.

It is a long time before she finally lifts her head from my shoulder. She tries to move off my lap, but I stop her.

"Hotch, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." she gestures wordlessly at me, eyes averted.

I turn her face up to mine. "Don't ever apologise for that. And I'm so sorry. For the baby." My voice sounds choked, but I don't care. "For our baby." Her lips tremble and I have to force myself not to pull her into my arms and press my lips into her hair as I hold her tight. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She bites her lip. "I only found out about two weeks ago, and I...I didn't know how to tell you. You're with Beth and I didn't want to ruin that for you."

"Emily, you were carrying my child. We conceived a baby together. You should have told me." But I know why she didn't. She didn't know what my reaction was going to be. And so she had borne the news alone. And suffered through the miscarriage alone. "You should have told me. I would have been here for you."

Twin tears slip down her cheeks. "I know. But it doesn't matter now. It's over, so you don't have to worry about me. We can just go back to what our normal lives." She puts on a brave smile that causes my chest to ache. "I'll be fine, really."

"You may be fine, but I'm not." Emily's lips part at my statement and her eyes widen. "I don't want to go back to my normal life. My normal life doesn't have you in it. Not the way I want. I need you, Emily. I need you to make me whole because without you I'm lost. That day in Tampa, I don't know what I would have done without you." I take her hand in mine. "You saved me."

"I..I..." She stares at me speechlessly. "You want to be with me? B..but what about Beth?"

"I broke up with her. I couldn't be with her, not after the night we spent together." I can still see the uncertainty in her eyes so I force myself to say the three words that I have been too scared to admit to myself until just a few hours ago. Words which I knew deep down were undeniably true. "I love you, Emily. It took your letter of resignation to open my eyes. I can't let you go. I _won't_ let you go. You can't leave, because there's nowhere you can go to hide from me." I pause, grimacing when I realised what I have just said. "That didn't come out right. I promise it isn't my intention to stalk you."

A tremulous smile curves her mouth. She is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. How could I have been so blind to this priceless treasure that had been waiting for me all this time? "Oh? That's too bad. I won't have minded you stalking me."

I feel my pulse race. She still hasn't replied in any definitive way. "Emily – " I start to say.

It is that moment when she utters the sweetest words I have ever heard. "I love you, Aaron. And yes, I want to be with you."

I close my eyes as happiness fills me to overflowing. Our lips meet in a kiss that was both tender and reverent. I cup her cheek when we finally draw apart. "I know you're hurting right now, but one day, when the time is right, we'll have another baby. A baby that's conceived in love, who will have both of us waiting to welcome it into the world. I promise you this, Emily. Just as I promise to cherish and protect you, and give you all the happiness that is within my power to give. I need you to know that I mean every word."

"Oh, Aaron." Emily reaches out and rests her hand over my heart, her gaze filled with love. "I know. _I know you._ Just as my heart knows yours. You've already made me happy. I love you. With all my heart, and everything within me."

That night, for the first time in a long time, we fall asleep together, secure in the knowledge that no matter what challenges may come our way, we will always have each other.

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><p><strong>Please do leave me a review, I would love to hear what you thought.<strong>


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